We Stopped Checking For Monsters When We Realized They Were Inside Us
by alaskanbirdfriend
Summary: Sam and Jack fly back to the camp. It's not what Sam expects. A sequel to Fix My Broken Soul With Shining Gold. Part 7 of my Speak Of The Devil And He Shall Appear series.
1. Chapter 1

Dean's been pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth.

He knows he can't look for his brother, _only God knows where he went, and Dean doesn't think there's a God anymore._

He closes his eyes, blocking out the noise, blocking out the commotion, blocking out Mary's voice of _Dean, Dean, are you okay, do you know if we can find Sam or Jack, could they kill Lucifer,_ and Dean just shakes his head, finally answering her.

"I don't know, Mom-"

An explosion, dust is everywhere, there's an enormous cloud of it in the center of the camp, and standing in the middle are two silhouettes, both with wings, and the taller has its wings covering, _protecting, guarding,_ the smaller one, and there are cries everywhere and the loading of guns and everyone's pointing their weapons to the two figures, _and oh, God, what if it's Michael and Jack, what if Michael has killed Lucifer and Sam and taken Jack and now there here to kill everyone else-_

One wave of the taller one's pair of wings, _or is it three pairs,_ and the dust instantly settles.

It's Sam and Jack, _neither of them have wings, or at least,_ _ **visible**_ _wings, was Dean hallucinating after all, what the hell was in his coffee-_

Sam grins, his hand on Jack's shoulder, and Dean forgets all about it.

"Guys, it's fine, they're friends!" Dean yells, _and there are whispers and confusion but the guns are down, Sam and Jack are safe, at least that's one less thing to worry about._

The rest of the people mumble and frown but then they go back to work, go back to whatever they were doing and Dean sighs in relief.

Sam glances down at Jack, eyebrows knitted together in askance, then Jack nods and wanders off.

Then Sam turns to Dean and he swallows, he looks down, shoulders hunched, afraid, _why is he afraid,_ and the only thing Dean thinks is, _oh, God, Sammy, what happened?_


	2. Chapter 2

Sam and Jack fly back to the camp after he kills Lucifer.

 _He still can't believe he did it, after all these years._

They both land, ungracefully, in the middle of camp, causing a cloud of dust to be kicked up.

 _Don't blame him, Sam's only had wings for less than a day, he's not a perfect flier._

He can hear guns being loaded, shouting and commotion, and his wings bristle, protective, _they cover Jack, just make sure he doesn't get harmed._ Sam doesn't think that the regular angel-killing bullets could harm them anyway, but he has to make sure. He rests his hand on Jack's shoulder.

He looks down at Jack, concerned. Suddenly, it hits him square in the face.

Sam just killed his father. _What would he think of Sam?_

 _ **Hey, Jack, are you okay?**_

Jack's eyes widen at Sam's voice. His only experience with angel radio had been agony.

 _ **Yes, why?**_

Sam looks around, shifting where he stands. His wings, still encircling them, twitch.

 _ **I...I killed your father. I mean…**_

Jack's eyes harden at those words.

 _ **He was not my father.**_

Jack pauses, then continues with a firmness Sam doesn't expect.

 _ **If anything, you are my father.**_

Sam stills. _Something wells up inside him, a blend of emotion that he can't control, he almost feels_ _ **honored**_ _, but otherwise he doesn't know what he feels-_

Right. They're going to get shot at.

He waves one wing, and the dirt, dust, whatever it is, drops to the ground.

Dean's voice cuts through the muttering, yelling at everybody that's _it's fine_ and _they're friends_.

Sam folds his wings back and grins, _oh, thank God, his brother is real, everyone is real, he was never in the cage,_ and then Sam realizes, _he has to talk to Dean._

Sam turns to Jack, fidgeting slightly.

 _ **I am going to talk to Dean about...this. I am not sure what he will think.**_

Jack frowns, confusion etched into his expression.

 _ **What do you mean-**_

Memories flash through Sam's mind unbidden.

 _If I didn't know you, I would wanna hunt you._

 _Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak._

 _I'm done trying to save you._

Sam Winchester's thoughts are spiraling, _he can't help it, he's projecting and Jack sees them and Jack does not want to leave Sam's side-_

Sam shakes his head, ever so slightly.

 _ **Go, Jack. I will deal with Dean.**_

Jack clenches his jaw, but nods and wanders away. _But even so, he keeps a wary eye on Sam and Dean._

Sam looks back at Dean, _at his brother,_ and takes a deep breath. His eyes flicker over Dean's face, _and he can't help the fear, the curling in shoulders, and the stare down at the ground, can't look him in the eyes_ feeling.

Dean's face pales, for whatever reason, but Dean walks towards Sam and grasps his shoulder. Green eyes glance up and down Sam's body, checking for injuries, wounds, anything, _but Sam can feel where the eyes stay pinned on his back for an extra few seconds._

 _He suddenly doesn't like it when his wings shift uncomfortably by themselves._

Dean swallows. "Come on, Sammy, let's get you inside."

 _Inside, away from everyone else, away from the curious stares that Sam has tried to avoid his whole life._

Dean half-drags, half-walks with Sam back to a cabin.

 _Why?_

 _The only answer Sam can come up with carries a word he can't bear to repeat out loud._

 _ **Monster.**_

Sam's wings tremble.

 _He can still feel Jack watching them both like a hawk._ Sam shakes his head, a quiet _no_ , and the pressure vanishes.

Dean sits him down at a small bed, a desk next to it, and pulls out a chair, sitting down.

Sam leans forward, head in hands, runs his fingers through his hair.

 _He feels like he's being interrogated._

Dean's eyebrows knit together as he watches Sam.

"Hey, man, are you okay? What happened?"

Sam looks up, eyes widened, not expecting this, more like expecting snarls of, _you monster, you're not human anymore, you wondered why I brought you here alone, I came here to kill you._

He expects the sound of spitting on the floor. _Freak._

What he doesn't expect is worry-filled eyes of his brother.

Sam lets out a breath of air.

"Lucifer is dead."


End file.
